Stripped Away
by Casandra
Summary: Buffy/Willow SLASH: Buffy's thoughts during 'Dopplegangland'


Author: Casandra  
Email: rozwellrulz@aol.com  
Disclaimer: Can't tell you how much I'd love to say I owned them. Cause, well, if I did, then there wouldn't be such a big need for fanfic about these two, it would all be onscreen :). But since Joss, Mutant Enemy, yada yada yada hold that honor..................................  
Rating: PG- PG-13. You know me, I won't even attempt anything past a PG-13.  
Pairing: Buffy/Willow of course  
Warning: If a romantic relationship between two consenting adult woman bothers you, run far, far away.  
Distribution: Sure, be my guest. Just please drop me a email to let me know where I can find it.  
Feedback: Well it's very hypocritical of me to ask for it considering how bad I am about giving it myself :( But I would greatly appreciate anything you felt inclined to send my way.  
Summary: Mostly Buffy's thoughts during 'Dopplegangland'. Inevitably it will skewer from the way the episode actually ended.  
Spoilers: Mostly just 'Dopplegangland'  
Author's Note: Well this is bound to be a rather short fic, I just can't seem to find the patience to write a long drawn out epic fic. I generally spin my fics off of actual episodes that I felt had an abundance of subtext. Which actually now that I think about it, is quite a few eppies! Don't you just love subtext? Anyway, almost all of this is Buffy's POV  
  
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I sit here and I know that I'm in the library, but it's like I'm surrounded in this dense, never-ending fog. There's no path out and I'm being suffocated by the thick gray smoke that is engulfing me. And the really horrible thing is that I don't care. I feel numb, and with the numbness I could care less what happens to me. The fog could carry me away, could kill me slowly, and I wouldn't care. Because she's gone.  
  
I look up from my position on the library stairs. Huh, I wonder how I ended up on the stairs? I see Xander sitting above me, a haunted glaze clouding his normally gentle brown eyes. Willow was his best friend too, and I know I should feel sorry for him, after all, he's known her much longer than I have. But I can't, I'm so numb that I can't even feel sorry for me let alone Xander. I turn away from him to look at Giles, who for the first time I can ever remember, seems to have tears in his eyes. Not even when Ms. Calendar died do I remember seeing his eyes glisten over. But even though he was my Watcher, I knew that he always related to my best friend the most. Giles and Willow were so intellectually alike that the he couldn't help but be endeared by the shy redhead. Still, I couldn't feel bad for Giles, after all, I can't even feel bad for myself.  
  
The silence between the three of us is deafening, like words would make the horrible truth that much more real. But while Giles and Xander silently grieve my mind seems trapped in the moment my world as I knew it ended.  
  
I can remember every detail of today as if it were scarred onto my soul. I remember the argument we had this afternoon, the fact that Willow felt so badly about herself had tore at my heart all day long. I've always hated when Willow questioned her self worth. Can't she see how incredible she is? She has become more confident in the three years that I've known her, and I'd like to think that I've drawn her out of her shell at least a little bit. So when she reverts back to the shy girl that I met that first day at Sunnydale High, it breaks my heart in all kinds of ways.   
  
I went to the Bronze tonight hoping she would be there, the need to make things right between us flowing through my veins like molten lava. I didn't question the urgency I felt to see her tonight. It didn't even occur to me that it was something other than the need to make things better with my best friend. But as I sit here and I finally start to feel the grief wash over me in drowning waves, I know better.  
  
When I walked up to Xander tonight my mind had been in full apology mode. I hadn't even really intended on talking to him, but after I had scanned the crowd a couple of times looking for Willow and coming up empty I decided to ask him. As I think back now I should have known that when I saw her she had been turned. My spidey sense had been screaming out at me, but I was so enraptured by that tight corset my friend was sporting that I chose to ignore it. As she turned away from me I felt like I had gone ten rounds with some kind of sorrow demon, I knew that our friendship was fast becoming a thing of the past. I felt like I was in slow motion as I reached out for her. When I grasped a hold of her forearm a bone tingly chill wrapped itself around my entire being. She was cold, even through the tight leather I could feel it. Willow, the best friend I could ever to hope to have and so much more, was ice cold. Even before she spun around and revealed the awful, horrifying truth, I knew. The demon that now inhabited my best friend's body stared me down as I gaped in pure and utter shock. The shock soon gave way to the numbness, which has now ushered in the all consuming grief I'm plagued with this very moment.  
  
I know now why I felt such a need to make things right with her. The term best friend now seems so very inappropriate, she was so much more than that. God, was? How can I even think that way? It took me losing her to make me realize how much I truly needed her. How much I still need her and always will. The thoughts that are finding their way into my mind finally caused the dam to break lose. As the hot salty tears finally tracked their way down my sullen face, I realized just how much I was losing. I'll never be able to take comfort in her warm open embrace ever again. I can never just walk down the halls of school and feel completely content again, just because I was holding my best friend's hand. I'll never hear her adorable babble sprees again. Never. I'll never see the person I loved most in this demon laden world again. And the fact that she took her last breath not knowing how important she was to me is the most devastating thing of all. Willow died thinking all that mattered was that we thought she was reliable. And as long as I live I'll never be able to forgive myself for that.  
  
I had to finally figure out I was in love with Willow after it's already too late. It took me losing the best thing that ever happened to me to finally figure out the truth of my heart.  
  
Sometimes it takes loss to make you appreciate what you have. I had everything I could ever have wanted in Willow, and I didn't even realize it until it was too late. Damn it. Damn everything, they took her away from me! Damn the vampires. Damn the demons. Damn the world. Damn everyone. I just want her back. Please, just bring her back. I'd give anything in this life and the next just to have 5 more minutes with her. Just one more chance to tell her how much she means to me, how much she's always meant to me, and always will.  
  
But once again I'm a day late and a dollar short. I could have been so happy with her, I know we could have been fantastically happy together. But I was a coward. I shied away from the feelings I always knew were there, and I'll forever pay the consequences. Whether I live another day, another year or even ten years, I'll never miss her any less. And I'll never, ever forgive myself for my silence. For it not only cost me, it cost Willow. Don't ask how I know, because I'm not exactly sure, I just do, but Willow felt the same way, of that I'm absolutely positive. So my silence, my cowardess, cost us both dearly. And I pray to anything above, that just as I knew how she felt, she knows how I feel. The fog's returning, the pain and grief far too much for me to bear. I like the numbness, I like not feeling the pain. Because then I can pretend it's not real, that she's not gone forever. Just as I'm about to let the grayness overtake me I see the library doors swing open and a sea of red hair comes bounding over to us. I know I'm imagining, I know my grief is playing tricks on my mind. I've never seen her look more beautiful, with her fuzzy pink sweater and her happy go lucky stance. She's the epitome of my Willow. I'm afraid to move, because I like the dream, the vision, far too much to let it slip away from me.  
  
"What's going on?"  
  
My heart stops beating, my ears start ringing, my eyes cloud over. The dream seems so real that I'm starting to question myself. Xander has a cross right in her face, she's not the vampire that we saw at the Bronze, of that I'm sure. I'm too afraid to hope, yet with everything that I am I'm praying that it's real, that she's real. I suddenly find my voice, not really knowing what will come out.  
  
"Willow, you're alive?"  
  
"Aren't I usually?" Willow. It's my Willow. It's amazing to me that I could know so much with three simple words. Not caring in the least bit, the fear sliding away entirely, I launch myself into her arms. I am determined never to let her go, I have my second chance, and I certainly don't intend on wasting it.  
  
"Willow, I love you" I don't care who hears me, as long as she does. As long as she understands me it doesn't matter who else is in the room casting me curious glances. She takes my face in her gentle hands and brings our lips together in a sweet, warm embrace. I know that people try and describe first kisses with all sorts of heartfelt, romantic words. But I can't do that. Maybe it's because I've never been that articulate, but I think it's because there is only one word for it. Perfect. The kiss we shared as Giles looked away uncomfortably and Xander almost glared with jealousy, was one simple thing. Perfection. And I knew there would be a lifetime more of those sweet, perfect Willow kisses. She pulled away from the embrace and gazed at me with such pure unwavering love that I almost lost my balance. I think that if her arms wouldn't be wrapped firmly around my waist that I would be eating linoleum right about now.  
  
"I know Buffy. Just like you know I love you too" I smile up at her, because she's right, I did know.  
  
THE END 


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